


Takes One to Know One

by MadameFolie



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Other, Post-Canon, Rimming, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 17:11:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8900914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameFolie/pseuds/MadameFolie
Summary: They're a couple of freaks, but they know him too well.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah, this is happening some years after canon, when everyone's settled down some, emotionally speaking. Mostly Yurio. Whose level of chill is still about ten levels above everyone else's level of baseline chill.

"Oh." Yuuri lifts his head from the pillow to get a better look at what Yuri's doing spread across his lap. "Are you...." his eyes fall upon Yuri's fingers, sunk into the slight padding that's filled in around his waist and hips since he ended the competitive chapter of his career. Victor shifts beside them, rising up onto an arm to see as well.

 

"He is!" Victor beams, as if this is even better than the show they promised him. Just when Yuri thinks Victor can't _possibly_ not know how much of an asshole he is. It's like he's actually trying. "He's kneading! Like a little kitty!" God damn it, he wasn't even thinking. Yuuri just has this.....this fucking soft skin. It's smooth and comforting and splaying his hands across it is, like, one of the most soothing tactile experiences of Yuri's adult life.

 

"Oh no." Yuuri drops his head back down. "It's not that bad, is it?" It could be better. He could try a little harder. Victor could stop being such a freaking pushover all the time about it. At the supermarket. Cooking dinner. When they go drinking. About weekend practices. They stay with him, but they hit the bench way faster.

 

It's more than they owe him. Still pisses him off, though.

 

"I'm not fucking kneading him," Yuri spits. He imagines grabbing Yuuri's face like Victor used to do with him. Crushing Yuuri's cheeks up against his teeth so hard he'll have all these invisible lacerations inside. Make it burn when he tries to have a real drink. And then he's off, thinking of Yuuri thinking of him as the liquor sears at his raw skin. There's all kinds of weird things that get Yuuri off like that. Like he passed over all the normal people kinks when he had the chance and jumped right to the freaky ones. Yuri totally should have known. Victor laughs through his nose in that way he does when he thinks he's being slick.

 

"Yes?" He's got his hand on Yuuri's chest, stroking arcs down to his belly and back up. Every so often he pauses to press his fingers into the flesh. No real rhythm to it, just feeling him to feel him. Tell that to Yuuri's dick. It's stirring up underneath Yuri, warm and growing solid between his legs.

 

"Just thinking about what a couple of freaks you guys are," he breathes. Don't rock back against it, he wills himself. Ditto the urge to push into the hands on his hips. "You're so gross."

 

"Aw. Yuuri, did you hear that?" Victor tilts Yuuri's chin towards him. "He thinks we're gross."

 

"That's a shame...." Yuuri lets his eyes flick aside to meet Yuri's. "I was really hoping we'd have a chance to go down on him." His gaze makes a side trip down Yuri's body, right down to his cock. He's not hard again yet, but if they keep this up he's at a good risk of getting there. "Maybe he doesn't want it after all."

 

"Don't be stupid. You can't both go down on me at once. I've only got one dick."

 

"Really?" Victor slides to a sitting position, eases himself into the space just at their hips. "Come now, Yurio, where's your creativity?" He puts a hand to Yuri's belly, tracing the fine hairs down his gut.

 

"That's not my name," he warns. The tremor in his traitorous voice sneaks out behind the words. Damn it.

 

"I see plenty here for both of us to enjoy." Victor fits two fingers beneath the head. "We'd have to share, of course."

 

"That's mine," Yuuri says. Victor sighs, feigning injury.

 

"But it's the best part...."

 

"You can have the rest. But that part's mine." He thumbs the head, fingers brushing Victor's. Until Victor concedes to cradle the rest of his length. God, Victor really does spoil him rotten.

 

"Hmm. Deal. This part's satisfying." Three fingers, curled around the underside as closely as they can fit. "I like the way it feels inside me. He's so solid."

 

"So pretty."

 

"All of Yurio is pretty." Victor leans against him, all inexorable weight and it forces Yuri forwards and onto his knees to keep his balance. Maybe that's what he was going for -- his hand between Yuri's legs from behind, palms warm against his thighs, his testes. "Everything."

 

"Everything," Yuuri agrees. He help Yuri get his bearings, steadying Yuri's arms for him, drawing him close. Yuri hasn't tied his hair back. It's spilling all over them like afternoon sun and Yuuri laughs quietly as he lets it pool and flow around his fingers. "Maybe we don't have to decide. We could share it."

 

"I like sharing," Victor chimes in oh-so-helpfully. What is he _doing_ back there? He can't possibly be that invested in holding onto Yuri's balls. Or is that Yuuri's hand? Because Victor totally needs two to spread him open like than and -- oh--

 

oh---

 

And press a tongue up against him. He almost forgets how to breathe.

 

"Or we could do it that way," Yuuri finishes. Bastards. Bastards, bastards, bastards. Victor's tongue is slick and warm. He knows how it's supposed to feel, knows it inside his mouth and on his cock but somehow it always feels so much more intense like this. Warmer. Slicker. Sharper. Peeling out the core of him so that he feels all the emptier when Victor has to pull away at last. He will have to, eventually.

 

"Please," he growls into Yuuri's shoulder. "Shit, please--" Yuuri brushes the tips of his fingers along his length. So gentle. So gentle. Asshole.

 

"I think he'd like it." Damn him. Damn him for scheming it up and damn him for being right. It's a sad, sick trick of the universe that Yuuri's got him figured out so well and Victor's slowly learning. Terrifying as hell once Yuri realized. It's some fucking power to have on someone. And yet.

 

And yet Yuuri strokes his cock and strokes his hair and promises they won't let him go. Victor moans, tongue seated deep inside him.

 

"Wanna," he stutters a bit at Victor's tongue curls white-hot against his muscle. "Oh god. Wanna, wanna fuck your mouth," he confesses, fucking Yuuri's hand instead. "While he fucks me with his tongue." Either or, whichever way around. He isn't picky. He just, he _needs_ them.

 

"Sounds nice." Yuuri kisses his temple. "Next time." There's a lessening of the pressure inside him and he realizes through the fog in his head that it's because Victor's taken his mouth off him. No-- he keens into Yuuri's neck. They promised--

 

"Shh, it's okay," Victor breathes into his ear. "I'm here. We're here." He's got a finger poised to push into him in place of his tongue and Yuri's so close he could cry. Yuuri's grip on his cock isn't hard enough to close the distance. Yuri wishes he could say that's also because Yuuri's gone soft. But Yuuri knows better. Victor knows. And every time, they'll see right through him.

 

"Help me," he whispers. For a moment he's afraid. If they haven't heard him, he doesn't think he could say it again.

 

"Oh, Yurio." Victor relents. His fingers sting, hardly half as slick as they could be. Yuri's shaking.

 

"There we go. Just like that." His hips stutter more and more with each blossoming word of praise. "Our good Yurio."

 

Which is what shoves him full-force over the edge. With anyone else, it'd be playing dirty. With them, it feels like refuge. He's still kind of shaky after, so Yuuri holds him close while Victor wipes them clean -- both the tracks on his cheek and the mess on his and Yuuri's stomachs. Yuuri touches his lips to his forehead.

 

"Good boy," he says. Yuri pulls the blanket around himself.

 

"Like I said. Couple of freaks." He should probably have expected Victor to tap his foot with the now ice-cold towel in retaliation like he does.

 

"After all this time, we still have so much work to do on your self-awareness!" Victor steals a kiss to his forehead in turn before heading out to stash the towel. Yuuri laughs because he's a traitor.

 

"Your freaks," Yuuri reminds him, helping him tuck the blanket just right. And, well. Whatever.

 

Freaks.


End file.
